


Remote (I Want) Control

by orphan_account



Series: Trans Jack Drabbles [1]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Clubbing, Cunnilingus, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex, Trans Character, Vaginal Sex, implied jackrabbit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 03:23:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6139749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack lives his life doing whatever he wants. Right now, he wants that cute new DJ who has recently popped up onto the scene.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remote (I Want) Control

**Author's Note:**

> So today I took a break from writing my main fic... by writing another fic. It is a purely self-indulgent hunk of filth, but I liked it enough to want to post it here.
> 
> I haven't tagged this as a songfic, but it might kind of seem like one to some. It only has a few lyrics in it because I was listening to Remote Control by Beastie Boys, so it was mainly inspired by the vibe of the tune and has little relation to the lyrical content of the song itself. I just added a few lines of lyrics in for atmosphere. I hope it doesn't ruin the fic for anyone.

The air’s thick with sweat and fumes, no particular end in sight through the wall of flesh that presses against all sides of him as he swings his hips from side to side. 

_He’s only had a few drinks, but it’s enough to give him a pleasant buzz, make him hot where it counts._

He loves it here. The noise and the lights blocked his thoughts out, the buzz of the bass calmed him and looped his guts up into knots at the same time. He can’t get enough - it rung _‘pleasure’_ from his toes to his fluttering eyelids, and the smile on his face was there to stay. A simple time signature done perfectly could do wonders for the pit of his stomach and the tight knots that gathered in his shoulders, and this DJ was killing it tonight. His thumping heart and the tingle in his hands told him it was a sign.

His date had an arm around him to begin with, but he decided, nah. Not tonight, Mr Rabbit. Go powder your nose for a while, he says, but the dude gets it. He’s cool. He’s good. He’ll be there if Jack’s night doesn’t go where he wants it to. He’s a base-line with corny tattoos a really nice cock. It’s all Jack really needs, but of course, he wants more, more, _more_.

He’s already spent three nights in a row here, he’s had so many hands on his ass and his crotch, and he wanted to take every single one of those desperate puppies home, too. But he has one guy in his sights, the guy up in the corner working his auditory magic with the cute little dragon bobbing his head to the beat. 

Jack strays closer, peeling off hands that stroke and pull him back, now fairly uninterested in the lurid promise held in each of their fingertips. Every flashing light that illuminated that cute guy’s face put a skip in Jack’s step, left more of him wanting, gave him some more confidence he never needed.

He’s just had his roots done, his clothes are black and tight, choker heart-shaped, and he’s feeling _lucky_. He’s feeling so ready to dig into this fresh, tender meat in front of him. 

Just when he gets close enough, he makes eye contact with the guy up on the stage. Jack gives him a sly smile, head tilted and eyes hooded, just enough to give the guy a suggestion. Heavens, what a dork. A cute, happy dork. He’s got freckles, Jack can see now, his teeth are crooked and his hair is slightly stuck to his face with sweat. The smile he gives back is precious.

_He wants to lick all that exertion off him._

Not too soon after, the cute dork stops playing, puts on the canned beats.

And wouldn’t you know it, he’s a fan of the classics.

_… Well, things get hectic quick_  
_From the satellite dish to your joy stick_  
_It’s the night of the living cable box …_  


It takes him a little bit to come down after some water, but he talks to his buddy on stage and points to his dragon, and she nods at him. 

No kiss. Not his girlfriend, probably. Good.

Mr Adorkable is looking for the bright white hair in the crowd, and he looks a bit confused. Not for long. Jack’s already on it, without a trace of doubt in his mind. He sweeps in, takes his hand and pulls him to the side, smoothly looping his arms around his neck and leaning up a touch to talk into his ear.

_‘Hey, gorgeous,’_

He has an adorable laugh, and he starts swaying with Jack, looping his arms around his waist.

_‘It’s Hiccup,’_

_‘Really? I think I like gorgeous better,’_

Another laugh. _‘You’re not the only one.’_

_… Wires coming up from around the block_  
_Remote control to change the station_  
_But that won’t change your situation …_

Hiccup’s voice is nasal and quirky, kinda sounds like a normal person talking with a peg on their nose, but it’s not turning Jack off. It adds to the magic in this guy’s (green?) eyes, the fine details like the baby stubble creeping out from under his jaw, the scar nestled in between those wimpy little hairs just under his grinning lips.

Jack noses his chin and then kisses his lips, and he feels Gorgeous’s-- Hiccup’s-- hands flatten over the small of his back as he deepens the contact. Jack has to breathe hard through his nose - the guy’s not the best kisser he’s ever been with, but man is he _eager_ , and that’s enough for Jack to feel his junk get hotter, his mouth get looser.

Palms grip his ass, and Hiccup pulls back to moan into Jack’s ear.

_‘How sober are you?’_

_‘Not entirely, but enough to know I really wanna see what you look like on your knees,’_

_‘- Fh-- Fuck -’_

Before he can make do on his promise to lick the saltiness off of Hiccup’s neck, Jack finds himself pinned against a wall off out of sight, and gorgeous Hiccup is sucking a bruise into his neck. 

_Perfection._

He’s got his hands bunched up in Hiccup’s dark, messy hair, while the sweetest dork he’s ever met is grinding his cock against his crotch. He looks confused for a moment while he makes some questioning eye contact with Jack. 

Jack simply brings a hand back to his face, parts his fingers in a V shape, and licks upwards between them with his shiny, pink tongue, lips quirked upwards at the corners.

Realisation dawns, and Hiccup’s eyes dilate, his mouth forming an O shape. Most are fine with it, Hiccup seems to enjoy this development, and Jack quivers and moans as he starts rubbing his fat, hard cock against Jack’s clothed, dripping wetness in earnest.

He’s gotta be getting some uncomfortable burn on his dick, but Hiccup looks so lost in it that it’s almost funny. Jack pets his hair and whispers an idea into his ear.

He wants to give his poor dick a rest and put his mouth to use.

They’re easily discoverable, but that’s the fun part. Two people walk around the corner to get outside for a cigarette, but they turn around very quickly, and just their luck, the bouncer never comes. Must have been Mr Rabbit and another squeeze, because after that, nobody comes, though Jack’s sure that’s about to change very soon.

His pants hanging around halfway down his thighs, Jack is whimpering and moaning brokenly at the way Hiccup’s tongue massages his clit while his fingers dig into his hips, and he sees stars when he _sucks_ the tiny organ into his lips, making the white haired male throw his head back, unable to keep his hips from shivering. Hiccup looks blissed, the taste of Jack’s slickness on his tongue making his head swim, and Jack growls as he watches Hiccup pull back, wipe the juices off his chin with his fingers, and suck them off like they’re coated in the sweetest honey.

He’s not done yet, and he makes sure Hiccup knows when he dives back in, yelping in delight when he feels two of Hiccup’s fingers slide right into his cunt.

Jack can’t make out what song is playing now while he’s pulling Hiccup’s hair, orgasm taking him violently while his eyes roll shut. Hiccup’s are open slightly as he enjoys the close up view of the male grinding his vulva onto his mouth, his lips now numb, how satisfyingly so. Jack’s huffing and puffing, cheeks and lips flushed pink, styled hair now a mess. He looks perfectly sated, to Hiccup, but Hiccup doesn’t know any better until Jack beckons him up and starts pulling at his belt.

In the privacy of the bathrooms now, where they had shuffled off to, Jack finds his back pressed against a wall again, legs in the air, the only difference now being his lack of pants and the addition of Hiccup rocking his thick, impeccable cock in and out of Jack’s needy hole. Jack thought Hiccup would sound funnier while he was moaning (and boy, did he make some noise, both of them did), but all manner of activities in the club had continually managed to surprise him. Jack felt that fullness he craved most of his waking hours, he felt the pleasant stretch of his internal muscles working both to squeeze around and accommodate for Hiccup’s miraculous dick. Thrust after thrust makes him cry out continuously as he starts to see stars, the air is being pushed out of him, and again, he comes - and Hiccup follows him soon after, unloading a nice, sloppy deposit inside of him.

_This is filthy, so filthy. It’s everything Jack lives for._

They hold one another for a time, calm washing over them followed by a brief stint of panic from Hiccup’s side.

_‘Fuck! Are you--’_

_‘Shh. Don’t worry. Got all that plumbing taken out of me a while ago.’_

Jack lifts his shirt to show Hiccup the tiny scars he bore either side of his navel, and the taller male’s shoulders relax.

He laughs, sheepishly, and apologises. 

Beats pass, and Jack is about to put his pants on and leave, on the lookout for Bunny.

Hiccup stops him. Asks for his number. Jack almost laughs and leaves, but Hiccup has something nice, genuine in his eyes. Something Jack hasn’t seen in a long time.

He squeezes into his pants again, and punches his name and digits into a new contact file in Hiccup’s phone.

_‘Jack,’_

_‘Mhmm?’_

_‘Sorry. I just never thought to ask for your name.’_

_‘Don’t sweat it, gorgeous. You’ll never forget it now.’_

  


* * *

  


Jack’s sitting in front of the TV, Bunny snoring on the other side of the couch.

He’s watched his phone ring and go quiet with a number he hasn’t yet added to his contacts list once on the coffee table already, feeling conflicted as he remembers all the details of that night at the club.

_… Remote (i want) Control_  
_Remote (i want) Control…_

It rings once again, and Jack’s not sure he’ll answer it. His palms are clammy, and he remembers the way that gorgeous dork beamed when he got Jack’s number.

He picks up.

_He’s glad he did._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Please avoid leaving me rude comments about Jack's body. I will probably delete them. :^)
> 
> hmu @ kerillian.tumblr.com, if you'd like.


End file.
